


To Roast or Not to Roast

by pennysparrow



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Light Angst, Mentioned Bruce Wayne, Phone Calls & Telephones, is this angst? idk i don't write angst, it's got a funny ending, most of the bats are mentioned tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 12:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18620764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennysparrow/pseuds/pennysparrow
Summary: Dick gets asked to take part in a roast in Bruce's honor and winds up way overthinking.





	To Roast or Not to Roast

Dick frowned down at the invitation. The thick envelope made of paper that cost more than most kids in Gotham paid for their notebooks had fallen out of the pile of bills and magazines and postcards when he’d grabbed his mail. It was heavier than anything else in the stack with the cardstock it contained and slipped right out when he’d grabbed everything. He had carried it as though it were likely to explode at any moment or contained deadly poison or was a carrier of smallpox and living in Blüdhaven and having a return address of Gotham those weren’t wholly out of the realm of possibility.

When he’d finally reached his kitchen Dick dumped the rest on the counter and just held the cream envelope in his hands, studying it with narrowed eyed suspicion that only increased as he read and reread “Gotham City Chamber of Commerce” in the upper left corner.

Finally, Dick opened a drawer, pulling a steak knife from within it and tore through the top of the paper. He slipped the invitation out and carefully read the script.

_You are cordially invited_  
_to a night honoring Gotham’s great businessman and philanthropist_  
_**Bruce Wayne**_

_The night will feature a four-course meal  
and conclude with a roast of our guest of honor._

_Please RSVP with the card enclosed._

Dick felt his eyebrows raise as he read the invitation again. A roast. Bruce was getting a _roast_. Bruce _agreed_ to a roast. Bruce agreed to a roast after Alfred pressuring him into it and making the Chamber of Commerce agree to donate a rather large sum of money was more likely. And running his own investigation to make sure he wouldn’t wind up literally on a spit Dick was sure.

He chuckled and shifted the cards to find the RSVP and hope they hadn’t skimped on return postage when he noticed something odd. There was another piece of paper, nicer still than anything he had in his printer but not the same thick cardstock of the invitation. He unfolded it curiously and frowned as he read.

_Dear Mr. Grayson,_

_We hope that you are well and hope to see you in attendance. We are writing to ask if you might consider being one of our special guest speakers for the night. As Mr. Wayne’s eldest son we thought that you might bring a unique and entertaining perspective to the stage. We have also reached out to Mr. Drake-Wayne and Miss Cain-Wayne and greatly hope the three of you would consider speaking._

_We await your reply on the matter._

_The Gotham City Chamber of Commerce_  
_Lucy Plumber_  
 _Events Chair_

As he finished reading Dick let the paper fall onto the counter. He went to collapse on his couch, fishing his phone out of his pocket. They wanted him to speak at Bruce’s roast. They wanted him to roast Bruce. Not that he couldn’t, he did all the time it was quiet easy after all these years and well brooding in a dark cave while dressed as a bat kind of made you an easy target. The question was did he want to roast Bruce in front of these people?

It was one thing to tease Bruce and make fun of him when they were in their masks because that wasn’t Bruce, that was Batman. Batman deserved it more often than not and had bigger things to worry about than Nightwing making fun of him in front of a gang of would be arsonists. Batman was used to having his protegee complain about him with various members of the Justice League and Titans, most of them had just about as much right to complain.

It was another thing to tease Bruce to his friends and family. They _got_ it. They either grew up with the guy too or had been sidekicks themselves. There was a _something_ that came from growing up in the shadow of heroes and really only people who had done that understood it. So yeah, him and Babs or Tim or Cass ragging on Bruce in the cave was allowed. They’d earned that right. Bitching about him with Wally or Roy or even Jason and Steph – when they were on speaking terms – was allowed too.

Standing up in front of a room full of Gotham’s elite and making fun of the man that, to them, saved Dick? Yeah, no. Ok, yeah he did save Dick that was true but he didn’t need a bunch of rich snobs thinking he was some ungrateful circus brat, he’d dealt with enough of that those first couple years after high school thanks. Besides, they didn’t deserve to hear Dick’s jokes. Not the ones about Bruce. They wouldn’t understand. He didn’t want them to understand. Those were personal.

Besides, what was he going to say? “You know how you grow up and people tell you you’re ‘one of a kind!’ and all? Yeah, Bruce never said that and for proof please let me point to the three others who are apparently just like me and even with changes to the costume some still think we’re a singular person!” Or, “People always tell me ‘you’re so well adjusted!’ and yeah I am for a kid who watched their parents die. For a kid who was raised and trained to fight crime by a man in a Kevlar furry suit? Well the verdict’s still out.”

Dick could just say no, he wouldn’t do it. Hell, Dick _should_ just say no. It just… He didn’t know. It bothered him. Everything about being asked bothered him.

He kept playing with his phone, spinning it around in his hand, as he thought when he finally remembered why he’d gotten it out in the first place. He checked the time as he unlocked it and yup, Tim should definitely be awake by now. He hit the call button, lifted it to his ear, and waited.

_“Nnngh. Whu?”_ Tim’s voice was muffled when he picked up and maybe Dick underestimated how late the kid could sleep in on a weekend.

“Good afternoon Timbers,” he couldn’t keep the tease out of his voice, not that Dick tried.

_“’M on the west coast. ‘S still mornin’,”_ he protested. Dick winced a bit, he hadn’t realized it was a Titans weekend so yeah maybe Tim got some slack.

“Sorry.”

_“’S fine. What’s up?”_

“Well I was going to ask you about something interesting I got in the mail-”

_“If Steph sent you a live bat it you should blame Jason,”_ Tim interrupted quickly and Dick paused.

“Um. No. What?”

The younger boy sighed and Dick could just see him scrubbing his hand down his face before pushing it back up to push his long hair back. It was a movement he did often and one that often prompted a remark about haircuts from Alfred. _“I dunno. Harper got her and Cass really into Les Mis and then she and Jason ran into each other on patrol the other night and he caught her belting out One Day More or something? I really don’t know. She was talking really fast, you know how Steph gets. Anyways, they started talking and Jason told her something about how Victor Hugo sent his fiancée a live bat in the mail and she thought it was hilarious and well we all remember what happened when she found those websites were you could send people glitter and gummy dicks and poop.”_

Dick had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He did remember that, vividly. Tim and Cass both had a fine coating of glitter over their apartments for weeks after that, though with all the pranks and Cass being Cass there was normally glitter coating their apartments. Dick had gotten the gummy dicks sent to him and work and truth be told they’d been pretty good. Bruce had received the elephant poop. At the office. And Tim had seen and told Kon who’d told Clark and then there was an article in _The Daily Planet_ and Bruce had been forced to give an interview to a very amused Viki Vale about the whole thing when she made a very compelling argument about the failings of a Gotham paper not being able to report on Gotham news and the importance of the press and well there’s a reason she and Lois go toe-to-toe on scoops.

“There was no live animals, though that would have been preferable,” Dick admitted once he was sure he wouldn’t burst out laughing if he opened his mouth.

_“What did you get then? A_ dead _bat?”_

Dick snorted. “No. At least not today. I got an invitation to a roast for Bruce. And to roast Bruce.”

_“Oh?”_

“Yeah. Apparently, you did too.”

_“Oh.”_

“Yeah.”

_“I don’t know how I feel about that.”_

“Neither do I,” Dick admitted. “I don’t know what I’d say. I don’t know what I’d want to say.”

_“You could say no,”_ Tim said levelly. _“I haven’t even seen it yet but I’m probably going to. Too bad they can’t ask Jason since he’s legally dead and all, he’d love this. Or Barbara. Let her roast him, she’s good at that.”_

Dick smiled and shook his head, imagining those two tag-teaming. It wasn’t hard, they did it on the comms some nights and it was some of the most vicious and scathing remarks he’d ever heard. Thankfully, it was rare they were levelled at him. There had been times though and those had been rough.

“I don’t think any of what they’d say is fit for the general public,” he said dryly.

Tim gave a noncommittal hum. _“Steph and Harper. They’d just rip into him for being a rich white guy.”_

Dick sat up straight. “That’s not a bad idea Tim.”

_“What? Have Harper and Steph do it? Um, I still haven’t seen this thing but I’m fairly certain they asked us cause we’re his kids but not like an actual child like Damian.”_

“No, I know exactly who it should be. Thanks. Have fun with your friends this weekend, I’ll come to the Manor for dinner sometime this week.”

_“Um ok? Bye?”_

“Bye!” Dick hung up with a smile.

He pushed himself up over the back of the couch and grabbed the letter off the counter. There was an office number under the signature and while there was a chance she wasn’t in today Dick figured that being Events Chair meant you worked weekends. Besides, it’s not like he couldn’t just leave a message.

She picked up on the second ring and Dick’s smile grew. “Hi Lucy,” he pushed as much charm as he could muster into his voice, “this is Dick Grayson. I just got your invitation to Bruce’s roast and while I’m honored that you invited me to speak I just don’t think I’m the right person for the job. However, I do think I could put you in contact with someone who is. Have you reached out to Bruce’s cousin? Kate Kane? She’s a delight and if her barbs at holidays are anything to go by I think she would be perfect.”


End file.
